


Do not go....

by Lypreila



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Emergenji, F/M, Gency, I haven't written in so long, I'm Sorry, The worst Gency Drabble ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lypreila/pseuds/Lypreila
Summary: Genji attempts to go where Angela is not supposed to follow.  But Mercy, as always, is stubborn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing, I am made of Sin, and I am by no means satisfied with this, but Kudos and comments are welcome and so very much appreciated. Cross posted to my Tumblr account, @lypreila. You guys, this got some good responses, so if anyone ever wants to stop by and prompt me on Tumblr, you are welcome to!

Genji and Dr. Ziegler were hiding. The shadow draped alley hid them from all but the most observant onlookers, and as of yet no one had found them here, amidst the garbage and rats. Angela leaned against the wall, chin nodding towards her chest with each breath. Weak hands struggled to maintain a grip on her caduceus staff, waiting patiently for it to do it’s work while her blood dripped wetly from the wound in her side. Genji crouched near her, one metal hand pressing firmly against the bullet hole her abdomen, wakazashi in the other, glancing nervously between the entrance to this dead end coffin and the fluttering of Mercy’s eyelids as she struggled to keep them open. 

“Why did you come, Angela?” The words were hushed, stilted, and he took a moment to release the catch on his visor, grateful for the chance to look at her with his own eyes. Grateful too that she could likely not see his scarred face clearly in the dusky gloom. An explosion rocked the area, closer than the last, and he could see her shudder lightly beneath the carbon armor of the Valkyrie suit. The team was drawing near. 

“Angela!” 

A smile pulled at lips drawn tight with pain. 

“Yes Genji. I am here.” 

Something pulled at his still-human heart, and he resisted the urge to move his hand to her head, the desire to brush her sweat-slicked hair back strong within him. 

“Why did you come?” 

“Ah.” 

She said no more, and he waited, grateful that the sounds of battle seemed to gradually be drawing closer to them. Morrison would know what to do, could use his Biotic field to accelerate the healing of the deceptively grave wound in her side. _‘Patience, Genji’_ whispered Zenyatta’s voice in the back of his mind. 

“You are not supposed to go so far from the team.”

A short sound, something between a gasp, a cry, and a chuckle of laughter forced its way from Genji. 

“It is my role, Angela, to disrupt them from behind.” 

Dr. Ziegler, Angela, Mercy, smiled again, but did not speak, giving only a minute shake of her head in response. 

_“-mada. Genji, do you read? Sitrep, now….Read loca-”_

The radio buzzed in his ear, static and words fighting each other. It had been happening all night, someone hacking into their communications, unable to listen in, but it was damaging enough when they couldn’t properly communicate with each other as they tried to push towards their goal, a warehouse of servers in a near abandoned part of Mexico City. 

“I am with Dr. Ziegler, holding at grid mark A3.25, request urgent medical evac.”

_“-ear you. En Route. -unications up sh--”_

And that was all. 

His eyes turned back to Angela. Her color was looking better, but biotics could do only so much, she needed help, help he could not give her, needed the bullets removed, the wound sterilized, rest…. The light brush of her hand against his exposed face stilled him. Her touch was feather soft, as he so often recalled it, and for just a moment he leaned into it, a shuddering sigh suppressed with sheer force of will. 

“You should not strike out on your own, Angela.” The words were quiet, subdued, almost inaudible beneath the gradually rising sounds of gunshots and screams. 

“Then don’t go where I cannot follow.” 

He was speechless for a moment, and then the alley lit up, and he could hear voices around him, yelling, Morrison shouting at someone, rough hands shoving him aside, and Mercy was gone from his side, whisked away into a waiting vertibird, leaving him staring into the night sky, clutching a scrap of bloody cloth and wondering.


End file.
